


Golden Dawn

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Collection: BradyGirl_12 Fic Prompt/Request Fills, First Meetings, M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, Slash, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly-minted Lieutenant Jim Kirk attends a Starfleet banquet and meets a Vulcan for the first time.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Original LJ Date Of Completion: October 29, 2008  
> Original LJ Date Of Posting: November 5, 2008  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Paramount does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1470  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Written for my [LJ Second Anniversary Fic Request Meme](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/308177.html) for Adarkernight. Pairing: Kirk/Spock. Prompt: Banquet.

Jim sighed. Yet _another_ Starfleet function to attend.

Ah, well. It was all part of the game for a rising young officer who wanted to eventually command a starship. He could turn on the charm, get his name out there, and maybe get lucky for the night.

The hall was attractively decorated in a crystalline blue-white scheme, exotic and beautiful. The filmy gossamer hangings created little alcoves of privacy throughout the ballroom, blue-white diamond-shaped beads dangling from the ceiling. Ice sculptures decorated the banquet tables, white china and crystal at every place setting.

Jim smoothed the satiny material of his dress uniform, the gold-and–green motif glittering as he moved. He knew he looked good tonight. He was thankful that his self-confidence was improving. As a very young cadet he’d almost been a scared little mouse, constantly tormented by upperclassman Finnigan, too unsure of himself to really assert himself.

Now as a young, brand-new Lieutenant, he was he was becoming more sure and even a bit brash.

He smiled as a Rigellian woman in red-and-violet silks passed by, an answering smile holding a spark of interest. He continued on to the buffet table laid out at the back of the room, filled with appetizers to keep everyone happy until dinner.

Jim surveyed the buffet, trying to choose between Turisian shrimp and Aldebaran shellmouths when a middle-aged man in sharp sartorial splendor said, “James T. Kirk, correct?”

Jim recognized Senator Richard Kennedy, one of Earth’s most prominent statesmen.

“Yes. Good evening, Senator.”

Kennedy grinned, white teeth gleaming. He brushed back a shock of chestnut hair streaked with gold.

“Guilty as charged, Lieutenant. How are you enjoying the banquet?”

“Better than I expected,” Jim admitted.

“Waiting for a ship assignment?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got high grades and an excellent service record. I’m sure you’ll get a plum assignment.”

Jim was aware of the subtle look-over that Kennedy gave him. He could always use someone of such high influence in his corner, but he preferred not to have to pay the debt on his back. Arrangements like that rarely ended well.

“Thank you, Senator. I hope to get an excellent assignment.”

“I recommend the shellmouths.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

They _were_ good.

Kennedy was dragooned away by a woman with exotic eyes, and Jim listened to the conversations around him. He started to drift around, passing little enclaves of guests hidden by the curtains when he saw him.

A Vulcan.

The blue-and-gold uniform glittered in the soft lighting of the ballroom. So not a diplomat or scientist, a Starfleet officer.

Jim immediately liked the shiny black hair.

And the ears! Wonderfully elegant.

Jim approached, smiling as the Vulcan looked up.

“Hi, Jim Kirk.” He didn’t offer his hand. Vulcans were touch telepaths and kept casual touch to a minimum.

“Hello.” The Vulcan hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Spock.”

“Not bad as banquets go.”

“I have seen better.” A beat. “But I have seen worse, too.”

Jim grinned. Had this Vulcan just cracked a joke?

“Necessary evils, I suppose, though banquets can be pleasing to the senses, at least when it comes to the food.”

Spock nodded.

“I’m waiting for a new ship assignment. Are you currently assigned to one?”

“Yes. I am currently serving on the U.S.S. _Enterprise_.”

“That’s Chris Pike’s ship, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Jim sipped champagne that he had snagged from a passing waiter. “He’s one of the best in Starfleet.”

 _“The_ best.”

Jim heard the slight emphasis. He wondered if he would inspire such loyalty someday.

Spock looked very young, but Jim wasn’t sure about age when it came to Vulcans. Didn’t they live to 250 years or something?

The silence that had fallen between them was not awkward, as was often the case at these affairs. Jim sipped more of his drink, noticing that Spock’s was a pale amber liquid. It could be one of the non-alcoholic drinks offered. He searched his memory. Vulcans liked to keep clear heads and rarely drank.

 _Might not be a bad idea_ , Jim thought ruefully as he finished off his champagne.

Spock was watching a gaggle of Starfleet officers flirting with elaborately-gowned women, almost as if he was a clinician and observing animal behavior.

_Which he probably is._

Jim hid his smirk. Humans were most likely very puzzling to Spock.

“So is the Enterprise docked here on Earth for repairs?”

Spock nodded. “Our last mission was a bit perilous and so it was deemed beneficial for the ship to be repaired and the crew given shore leave.”

“What kind of mission?” Jim asked, trying to rein in his eagerness. He had undergone his share of exciting ones but never failed to want to hear more. “Unless it’s classified, of course.”

Spock shook his head. “It was not of that nature.”

As he spoke, Jim let his gaze rove over the slender frame, watching as the elegant fingers held the crystalline glass, the amber depths winking in the lights. Spock’s voice was velvety and calm, soothing Jim in places he didn’t know needed soothing. He almost laughed at himself. He sounded like a lovesick puppy! Vulcans didn’t mate with humans, after all.

Instead he concentrated on the relaxed feeling he was enjoying with this officer. Spock was very understated but Jim wanted to hear what he had to say. He _liked_ being with Spock.

He absently pushed back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Spock was still speaking, dark-brown eyes watching the movement. Jim didn’t mind that Spock was observing him. He liked those liquid eyes on him.

“It was a successful but taxing mission.”

“They usually are.” Jim’s hazel eyes sparkled.

& & & & & &

Spock caught his breath. Ever since he had laid eyes on this human, he had been…what was the word?… _dazzled!_ He had seen Jim Kirk across the room and been immediately drawn to his light.

He _glowed_ golden.

Illogical, of course.

Yet it seemed to be true. It was not just his dress uniform, with its gold piping and rich green silk. It was the man’s hair, a caramel-colored brown with streaks of gold, and his skin that had soaked up Earth’s sun to softly glow.

And the _eyes_.

Spock had never seen eyes this color. The term was hazel, but they were so much more: they seemed to be a gold/green, with striations of gold sparkling through them, and Spock could have sworn they looked this way one moment, and honey-gold the next. They were chameleon eyes, and he felt confused as strange emotions whirled through him.

Jim Kirk was a smiler, as most humans were, but his smiles seemed sincere. It puzzled Spock why such an avatar of light would stand and make conversation with him, but he decided to simply live in the moment.

And now the hazel eyes were sparkling at _him_.

The dinner announcement was made, and Jim Kirk stayed close to Spock until they were seated. Spock had half-expected that there would be placecards. He had attended enough diplomatic banquets to know that seating protocol was supremely important, but that was not the case at this function.

The first course was served, and the rich vegetable soup in golden broth tasted superb. Jim Kirk enthusiastically ate his soup, enjoyed the warm rolls and melting butter, and happily crunched away on the fresh salad. The main course was a choice of fish, steak, or chicken, each diner receiving the dish they had checked off on their RSVP card. Spock had requested mixed vegetables only and was accommodated. Jim Kirk ate fish, vegetables, and wild rice, keeping up conversation with the female Venusian on his right and Spock on his left.

As the evening wore on, Jim Kirk stayed at Spock’s side, charming everyone who came their way. Spock usually was alone at these sort of affairs, but this human was staying with him.

Spock was uncertain of how he felt about that, trying to ignore the feeling of warmth spreading through him.

Illogical.

He and Jim Kirk went out on the balcony as the dancing started. They exchanged stories about their service, Spock astonished at how relaxed he felt in this human’s presence.

He was even more astonished when dawn broke, and his timesense had not taken note.

“Well, looks as if the banquet is over.” Jim smiled as they watched the golden ribbons of light streak the sky.

“Yes.”

“I enjoyed your company, Spock. I hope we meet again.”

_Dazzling._

“I should like that…Jim.”

& & & & & &

Spock and Jim parted, a golden glow of warmth spreading through them both.

A memory that would stay with them on their separate assignments until the day they would meet again as Commander Spock greeted his new Captain, James T. Kirk, in the transporter room of the U.S.S. _Enterprise._


End file.
